The poem thread. Show your education.

[Crippledtrigger]

One of my favorites by Dylan Thomas.


Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.




poems not dirty limericks.

 

[Flash]

He didn't even make it to 40 but I assume he didn't go gentle.

Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold:—
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said,
"What writest thou?"—The vision raised its head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."
"And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,"
Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerly still; and said, "I pray thee, then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow men."

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night
It came again with a great wakening light,
And showed the names whom love of God had blessed,
And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.

 

[smithers599]

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Try to take my gun
And I will shoot you

 

[smithers599]

Horatius At The Bridge
It's too long to post in its entirety, but it tells a story similar to the story of Leonidas at Thermopylae -- a few blocking a narrow passage against thousands.

But the Consul's brow was sad, and the Consul's speech was low,
And darkly looked he at the wall, and darkly at the foe.
"Their van will be upon us before the bridge goes down;
And if they once might win the bridge, what hope to save the town?"
Then out spoke brave Horatius, the Captain of the Gate:
"To every man upon this earth, death cometh soon or late;
And how can man die better than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers, and the temples of his Gods,
"And for the tender mother who dandled him to rest,
And for the wife who nurses his baby at her breast,
And for the holy maidens who feed the eternal flame,
To save them from false Sextus, that wrought the deed of shame?
"Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, with all the speed ye may!
I, with two more to help me, will hold the foe in play.
In yon strait path, a thousand may well be stopped by three:
Now, who will stand on either hand and keep the bridge with me?'
Then out spake Spurius Lartius; a Ramnian proud was he:
"Lo, I will stand at thy right hand and keep the bridge with thee."
And out spake strong Herminius; of Titian blood was he:
"I will abide on thy left side, and keep the bridge with thee."

 

[matazaa182]

roses are red
violets are blue
me need post count
how 'bout you?

 

[Kingjoey]

Here I sit, my cheeks a'flexin
All this work to make a Texan

 

[Elk34]

https://youtu.be/6lTnnu3XLFk

 

[Tim McBride]

One of my Favorites:

Tommy By Rudyard Kipling

I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:
O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play.

I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside";
But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide,
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.

Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;
An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.
Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul?"
But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.

We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;
While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind",
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind.

You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, an' all:
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool -- you bet that Tommy sees!

 

[Maestro]

I'm going to have to second Kipling.
For All We Have And Are

For all we have and are,
For all our children's fate,
Stand up and take the war.
The Hun is at the gate!
Our world has passed away,
In wantonness o'erthrown.
There is nothing left to-day
But steel and fire and stone!
Though all we knew depart,
The old Commandments stand:—
"In courage keep your heart,
In strength lift up your hand."

Once more we hear the word
That sickened earth of old:—
"No law except the Sword
Unsheathed and uncontrolled."
Once more it knits mankind,
Once more the nations go
To meet and break and bind
A crazed and driven foe.

Comfort, content, delight,
The ages' slow-bought gain,
They shrivelled in a night.
Only ourselves remain
To face the naked days
In silent fortitude,
Through perils and dismays
Renewed and re-renewed.
Though all we made depart,
The old Commandments stand:—
"In patience keep your heart,
In strength lift up your hand."

No easy hope or lies
Shall bring us to our goal,
But iron sacrifice
Of body, will, and soul.
There is but one task for all—
One life for each to give.
What stands if Freedom fall?
Who dies if England live?

 

[Pipedoc]

This is my long time favorite, brings me back to the 80's when I was wrenchin and rockin!
Remembering the Forgotten Mechanic

Through the history of world aviation
many names have come to the fore
Great deeds of the past in our memory will last,
as they're joined by more and more.

When man first started his labor
in his quest to conquer the sky
he was designer, mechanic and pilot
and he built a machine that would fly
but somehow the order got twisted,
and then in the public's eye
the only man that could be seen
was the man who knew how to fly

The pilot was everyone's hero,
he was brave, he was bold, he was grand,
as he stood by his battered old biplane
with his goggles and helmet in hand.
To be sure, these pilots all earned it,
to fly you have to have guts.
And they blazed their names in the hall of fame
on wings with bailing wire struts.

But for each of these flying heroes
there were thousands of little renown,
and these were the men who worked on the planes
but kept their feet on the ground.

We all know the name of Lindbergh,
and we've read of his flight of fame.
But think, if you can, of his maintenance man,
can you remember his name?

And think o four wartime heroes,
Gabreski, Jabara, and Scott.
Can you tell me the names of their crew chief?
A thousand to one you cannot.

Now pilots are highly trained people,
and wings are not easily won.
But without the work of the maintenance man,
our pilots would march with a gun.
So when you see mighty jet aircraft
as they mark their way through the air,
the greased stained man with a wrench in his hand
is the man that put them there.

 

[Flash]

Now, how many of you put those poems up from memory and how many did a copy/paste?

 

[smithers599]

Had to memorize Horatio At The Bridge in school, but of course I copied/pasted.

Also had to memorize the Gettysburg Address, Preamble to the Constitution, and Declaration of Independence.

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men and women are protected by, you know, you know, the thing."

 

[Flash]

I memorized the poem I posted above. It was recited at my favorite uncle's funeral and it describes him to a "T".

Jack and Jill Went Up The Hill,
With Each A dollar and a quarter.

Jill came down with two and a half,
and they didn't go up for water.

 

[Pipedoc]

Now, how many of you put those poems up from memory and how many did a copy/paste?

I cut and paste, but have it hanging on the wall in my garage

 

[xerts1191]

Across the blazing sands we went
When we came upon three maidens in a tent
Willing to show us the view
So I bucked one
And Timbuckedtwo

 

[Maestro]

Now, how many of you put those poems up from memory and how many did a copy/paste?

I barely remember my own birthday. Of COURSE I cut and past! :lol: :lol: